


Sadalau

by kaylaber1



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Tenderness, because I am the father of sadness and the mother of tears, it gets angsty, oh yeah babey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-01 09:39:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18333416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaylaber1/pseuds/kaylaber1
Summary: Sadalau. Vulcan. To release from an imprisonment.They had loved one another, once.





	1. Shaukaush

**Author's Note:**

> So someone somewhere was like "What if Spock and T'Pring had had actual feelings for each other?" and I saw it and of course I had to rub my angsty little raccoon hands all over it. Enjoy.

“That was not necessary” Spock says firmly, dabbing green blood away from the split in her lip.

 

“Was it not?” She says, quirking her head like a curious animal. “You would not have been the victor of any physical altercation with them, therefore it was only logical that I-”

 

“There was no need for that to escalate to a physical altercation at all, T’Pring.” 

 

There is a beat of silence as the pieces fall into place and she understands his point of view. It makes sense, of course, but it is not her own. She nods slightly, and begins her own defense.

 

“Your honor was at stake. As your bondmate, so was mine.”

 

“One’s honor may be defended in other ways. It was neither prudent nor logical to resort to violence.” 

 

She wants to push it further, to find some reach for how it was a necessity for her to break Stonn’s nose, but she knows he’s right. His logic always was without fault. Which is likely why the harsh words of Vulcans like Stonn and Sarel and even her own father affected her so. Spock was a ‘better Vulcan’ than the lot of them. Better at controlling his emotional responses, too. Perhaps because he’d be held twice as accountable for them. It was simply unfair. 

 

“Are you upset with me, Spock?” She asks softly as he bandages her bloodied knuckles. 

 

“No.” He sighs. “I am merely...concerned about the repercussions of such an outburst. I am of the opinion that you are undeserving of any, however-” He’s cut off by her finger pressed softly to his lips.

 

“I am aware of the price that comes with such emotional outbursts and prepared to pay it. I only hope that it has bought you some measure of freedom from their torment.” 

 

His eyes close, and his hand closes gently around her wrist, thumb rubbing soft circles against the palm of her hand. She was unsure of whether the affections they shared for one another were a side effect of the bonding, only having happened out of their proximity to each other, or if they would have persisted without the ceremony. In the end, she supposed it did not matter. She was his, and he hers. 

 

These moments of intimacy were rare between them. Her father’s prejudice and Lady Amanda’s human sense of propriety often kept them at arm’s length. But here, in the deserts of Vulcan, where neither family knew to find them, they were free to do as they pleased. T’Pring moves her hand to cup Spock’s face, passing her thumb softly over his high cheekbones. The corner of her mouth twitches upwards at the wave of affection that passes between them. 

 

He moves from his stance knelt at her feet to lay across her lap, dark hair a sharp contrast against her blue skirts. The affection flowing through them is hers, now, and she brings a hand to comb through his hair. And then, her ashayam does something unusual and unprecedented. He leans forward and presses his lips to hers. When he pulls away, she tilts her head in confusion, searching his brown eyes for answers.

 

“What is the significance of that gesture?”

 

“It is a human gesture of affection, not unlike the ozh’esta. It is called a ‘kiss’. I apologize for my boldness. I was merely-”

 

She cuts him off, repeating the gesture as best she could. T’Pring was unsure of how exactly it was supposed to be performed, but touching lips was simple enough. 

 

“There is no need to apologize. It is not an unpleasant experience.” She confesses as she pulls away. 

 

“T’Pring?”

 

“Spock?”

 

“You are quite beautiful when you smile.”

 

Was she…? T’Pring hadn’t even noticed her lapse in control. 

 

“Perhaps my father is right. Being bonded to one who is half human has a negative effect on my ability to reason.” She says, not meaning her words in the slightest. 

 

“Oh most undoubtedly. I am a dreadful influence.” He says, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in what was almost a smirk. 

 

She pulls him up to her, kissing the expression away. T’Pring was beginning to see the attractiveness in such gestures.


	2. Kusut T'Khaf-Spol

_ Parted from me, and yet never parted. _

 

The words that had been a consolation to her when Spock had left Vulcan for the sandy shores of San Francisco proved only to bring her sorrow now. For yes, she could still feel him through the bond just as strong as she always had- her Terran beauty, whose mind outshone any she’d seen- but as the years pass, she draws ever nearer to the conclusion that their relationship must come to an end. 

 

It was not for any lack of affection. She still felt as strongly for Spock as she ever had. Perhaps that was what influenced this hard decision in the first place. Spock was happy in space. Happier than he ever had been on Vulcan. He finally felt he  _ belonged _ somewhere. She would not be the one to take that from him. T’Pring had to break his heart, and in turn, her own. 

 

She had hoped to end it quietly and with grace, as her Ashayam deserved. Spock only had another 2 years on this assignment, after all, and would return to Vulcan for a spell between missions. That would have been the time to do it, had biology not intervened. When her blood had begun to burn, she knew that there would be no graceful solution to this problem. T’Pring lamented her options. 

 

She could marry Spock, and spend her days in the shadow of the rebel half-human, with a husband who would never once complain about his place at her side, but would always be staring at the sky with a faraway glint in his eye. This was not an option she was willing to consider. Or….or she could accept the proposal from Stonn.

 

Stonn was about half as intelligent and a quarter as kind as Spock, and she held no affection for him as he seemed to for her. But he was moderately wealthy, and he was full Vulcan, which would please her father. Then there was the matter of Spock. He surely would not let her go should he believe she still had feelings for him, so a second fiance was a necessary element. But Stonn? That would be an insult to him. However, he was the most viable option, and thus, he was the one she’d taken to the Koon-ut-Kal-If-Fee. 

 

In the end, she had played it off so gracefully, it had surprised even herself. She watched the light drain from Spock’s eyes as cooly as Surak himself would have, not having to fear him feeling the wash of agony behind her stony face through their now-severed bond. And of course, he asks her to explain. And of course, she does, carefully leaving out her feelings towards him as her mind drifts back to stiff and unpracticed kisses in the desert sands. She watches him go back to where he belongs, tracking him through the golden swirls of the transporter beam until she cannot see him anymore. 

 

It is not based in logic, but she hopes beyond hope that there is still a place for him among the stars after all it had taken for him to return there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kusut T'Khaf-Spol. Vulcan. Pain of the heart. 
> 
>  
> 
> ((Predictably, there is no Vulcan word for heartbreak, but language girls make do))


	3. Hakausu

He seldom came to the observation deck, but Spock needed just a moment to himself. a moment to remember why he was doing this. a moment to look out on the vastness of space and feel at home once more. His eyes traced out constellations, in entirely different places from his memories on Vulcan. This did nothing to soothe his troubled thoughts. What had happened on Vulcan today had been a scenario he'd never thought to plan for. There were no words in Vuhlkhansu to name his feelings, but one in English comes to mind. Heartbreak.

"Penny for your thoughts, Mr. Spock?"

Jim. Spock had never thought he'd be so grateful to hear his voice, and yet, today that feeling of relief flooded him with each word from his mouth. Jim, his Captain, his friend, still alive and for the most part unharmed. Spock owed the Doctor a great debt for the trickery he'd pulled, against tradition though it may have been.

"They are most troubled, Captain." He says vacantly, still counting the stars from the ship's window. "I doubt they are worthy of your outdated currencies."

"Well, I'll take them for free, then." Jim says, coming to stand next to him. "Is it about today? You know I don't hold you accountable for all of that."

"I am well aware, Captain." Spock turns to face him, almost unable to bear the sight of his concerned frown. It doesn't show. "I was simply...unprepared for the sequence of events that unfolded."

"You didn't think she'd reject you, did you?" Something approaching understanding flashes across Jim's face.

"No." Spock replies stiffly. "I did not."

There is a moment of still, tense silence as Jim searched for the right words to say. Spock was well aware that he was attempting to choose just the right words to soothe away the pain, and well aware that whichever ones he decided upon would ultimately do little to heal him, but perhaps it was simply he thought behind them that mattered. Jim had always been there to ease Spock's troubles in whatever ways he could, and for that much alone, Spock was immensely grateful.

"You two were close, then?" Is the question he settles on.

Spock debates lying to him, but he cannot bring himself to belittle what he has lost.

"For a time, we were inseparable." He explained cooly. "I had been operating under the assumption that the feelings we shared and the preparations we had made would still stand. Perhaps that was naive of me."

His voice is clinical, but he is acutely aware that his word choice is beginning to dip into sentimentality. Spock is momentarily unsure if he wishes to make an effort to conceal it. Only momentarily. He stiffens physically, willing his emotions to follow suit.

"I don't think that's naive of you, Spock." Jim says, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder. "I think that's optimistic."

"I do not deal in optimism, Jim"

"Oh, of course not." Jim smiles. There's a twinkle in his eye that says he doesn't believe him, but Jim was never the argumentative one. That was Dr. McCoy's specialty.

"Are you alright, then?" He adds, expression melting into concern. The warmth in his eyes, however, remains. It's always there- that flame of affection- and Spock has grown to find comfort in that gaze.

"Yes." He answers, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards almost imperceptibly.

"What's so funny?"

Spock's eyes widen slightly, and he wonders if it's his own emotional failings or if Jim's really learned to read him that well. It would make sense, given the amount of time they spend together. 10.5 hours on Alpha shift, which did not account for the chess games, or dinners, or moment such as this.

"It is merely ironic that it should be you asking me if I am alright, considering hours ago you were unconscious."

"Spock, surely you know me well enough by now to know that being unconscious is a good day for me."

"An unfortunate truth."

Jim laughs, then- a pleasant, near musical sound that fills the observation deck with its warmth. It would be quite contagious, were Spock susceptible to such things. He slings an arm around Spock's shoulders, seemingly to steady himself, however when he's finished, it remains in place. Spock softens into the familiar touch, having long since become accustomed to the Captain's lack of personal space. Indeed, at the moment, it is a welcome comfort. After having held him limp and lifeless on Vulcan, it eased his mind to now have the same body pressed warmly to him.

"The stars are beautiful from here, don't you think?"

"Indeed." He concedes, looking out upon them once more.

The stars _were_ beautiful, and despite everything, it was good to be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hakausu. Vulcan. The healing process.

**Author's Note:**

> Shaukaush. Vulcan. Passionate emotions.


End file.
